


Actually, It Kind of Does Mean That

by azuresky18



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Mickey Milkovich, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Gallavich, Gay Sex, M/M, Top Ian Gallagher, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 14:28:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17346899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azuresky18/pseuds/azuresky18
Summary: Ian takes matters into his own hands regarding Mickey’s insistence that coming out doesn’t mean that Mickey is going to wear a dress.Smutty oneshot crossdressing kink fic set circa S5E4, with a slightly modified timeline. Please see the endnotes for details on that, with the caveat that they contain a likely spoiler for the end of this fic.





	Actually, It Kind of Does Mean That

“It doesn’t mean I’m gonna wear a fucking dress or anything.”

Months after Mickey came out at the Alibi - which, Ian mused, more closely resembled the Kool-Aid Man smashing through walls and bellowing, “Oh, yeah!” than an actual coming out - he was still busting Mickey’s balls about this. After all, Mickey’d been the one to bring the dress thing up in the first place, not Ian.

Ian made no secret about the fact that he’d find it hot to see Mickey wearing a dress or skirt and heels at some point for him. However, the fourth time Ian had asked, the little thug told the ginger to shut the fuck up or he’d make Ian do it - with one of Mickey’s size 8 boots up the ginger’s ass, of course. He’d have to find a more indirect way.

Knowing he’d already pressured Mickey to come out, Ian decided it was very much in his best interest to let sleeping dogs lie. Maybe Mickey would come around eventually.

 

* * *

 

Thankfully for Ian, another opportunity presented itself several months later. After coming home from the Alibi, Mickey was grumbling about all of “Ian’s” suitcases piled up in the Milkovich living room and sitting on the porch.

Ian was opening a new suitcase when he pulled out a short, black skirt that looked like something out of a catalogue that Lip or Iggy might keep next to the toilet for spank bank material. Intrigued, Ian pulled the material. It had a decent amount of stretch and wasn’t that small, so it might fit Mickey.

“Mickey!” Ian yelled.

“I told you, I’m not getting involved in your stupid fucking suitcase capers!” Mickey said as he walked out of the bathroom, clad in one of his ubiquitous shirts with the sleeves torn off and a pair of sweatpants.

As much of an enigma as Mickey tried to be, Ian was getting better at reading his boyfriend. He noticed there wasn’t enough venom in Mickey’s tone for him to be pissed for real. At least, he hoped so. Ian tried not to overthink it and went for it.

“You sure? There’s some good stuff in here that isn’t just clothes,” Ian said. He decided directly bringing up the skirt would be the wrong way to do this, so he showed Mickey an iPhone speaker from one of the other parcels.

“That’s pretty fucking sweet,” Mickey said, looking. “Might be good to keep on my dresser when I’m listening to my music.”

“Right? At least it’s not another dildo,” Ian said, smirking.

“Hey, I fucking told you about this, Ian,” Mickey said. “I have no problem with toys, given the fact I’ve had some since before we started banging. Just not ones that have already been in some stranger’s pussy or asshole, okay? You can’t sterilize a lot of that shit.”

“Fair enough,” Ian conceded. “I love fucking you as it is, but I wouldn’t mind doing more shit to spice up our sex life a little? In case you wanted to try something else.”

“You can use toys on me. Gotta love how you looked fucking scared of the...what the fuck did you call it? ‘Rosary for giants?’” Mickey recalled. “Then once you did end up using them on me, you wished we’d did it way sooner.”

Ian chuckled as he pulled Mickey for an opened-mouthed kiss, deepening it as Mickey reciprocated. Ian slid his tongue into his boyfriend’s mouth, moaning. He’d been insatiable lately, but at least his bottom could take all Ian could give him and then some.

“Mmm,” Mickey said, pulling away. “Speaking of which, you wanna get on me or you gonna keep playing baggage roulette? ‘Cause I can go grab a dildo, go in the bathroom and get myself off in there, but I’d rather fucking not.”

“Fuck, yeah,” Ian said, his voice deepening with lust. “Wanna get on the couch? I’ll sit down and you can ride me.” Ian unzipped his pants, the bulge in his pants growing more obvious.

“Damn straight. Or not so straight since I don’t give a fuck anymore,” Mickey chuckled, playfully shoving Ian. “But stop your stupid ass chitchat and shut the fuck up so that I can get on you already.”

“Bossy. You fucking want this dick,” Ian said.

“I said, ‘Shut the FUCK up!’” Mickey grabbed Ian by the shoulders and shoved the larger man back onto the couch, Ian’s eyes growing wide with this display of dominance from his shorter partner.

Still straddling Ian, Mickey dug into the cushions for the lube and pulled down his sweats and boxers. He moistened two of his fingers and reached to insert them in his hole.

“Jesus, Mickey. That was hot as fuck,” Ian moaned.

“Yeah? Well, you’re probably gonna like this, too.” Mickey lined up his hips on top of Ian and jammed himself onto Ian’s throbbing cock. Ian screamed, glad the house was empty, since there was no way the other occupants wouldn’t have heard that.

In between pants, Mickey quipped, “Don’t have to stay quiet on account of me. Let it out.”

Repositioning himself so his feet were planted on either side of Ian’s thighs, Mickey bounced harder on top of Ian, soft grunts turning into louder moans, his thighs straining as he pleasured both himself and Ian.

Knowing he wouldn’t last long and wanting Mickey to get off as well, Ian reached for his boyfriend’s red, bouncing cock and began pumping it in time with Mickey’s aggressive thrusts.

Coaxing a whine from the black-haired man from the dual stimulation, Ian leaned into Mickey’s neck as the latter threw his head back, moaning while his eyes stared unseeingly at the ceiling. He peppered the pale expanse of Mickey’s throat with kisses and licks.

“Come for me, baby,” Ian said huskily, hoping Mickey wouldn’t mind the term of endearment. “Let go for me.”

Judging from the reaction it got, Mickey didn’t. The brunet’s muscles tightened and his hole contracted around Ian’s cock as both of them climaxed together. Ian used his hand to stroke Mickey’s cock and squeeze out the last of Mickey’s cum, so that it dripped into the growing puddle that had formed on Ian’s chest.

Ian pulled out but held his boyfriend close, feeling as Mickey’s heart rate slowed down. Ian didn’t care that his own load was dripping out of Mickey’s slightly open hole and pooling into his lap.

Smiling at Ian, Mickey said with no trace of his usual sarcasm, “What do you want, Gallagher? I know you’re cooking something in that crazy copper noggin. Spill it. What’s up?”

“I want you to wear a dress or a skirt while you ride me like you just did. It’d be so fucking hot, Mick. I meant it when I said you have nice legs.” Ian spit it out in one breath, choosing to rip off the Band-Aid quickly.

Mickey, still straddling Ian’s hips, raised an eyebrow in the way only he could. “So you fucking buttered me up so I’d be in a good mood when you dumped this shit on me?”

“Yes,” Ian confessed.

To Ian’s immense relief, Mickey chuckled and started to laugh. Thank fuck, because this could have ended really fucking badly, Ian thought.

“You fucking asshole. All right, I’ll do it. If it’d get you like this, I got no complaints since I’ll get a hot fuck and it ain’t like anybody else will see me. Now I’m gonna get up so my ass won’t be in a pool of jizz anymore.”

Ian, also laughing, got up off the couch and reached for tissues so that he and Mickey could wipe themselves off. Putting his clothes back on, Ian gestured at the suitcases. “We can go through this shit together and you can see what in here might fit you well enough.”

Mickey snorted in response. “Whatever. Just as long as you get rid of the rest of this fucking shit at some point so it’s not clogging up my whole goddamn house. Bring it back to the fucking airport where you got it after we get finished.”

Ian went back to the lacy skirt he’d been contemplating before. He told Mickey, “This would look so sexy on you. It’s so short your ass cheeks would be hanging out the bottom of it.”

“Well, I’m just glad it ain’t pink,” Mickey said. “At least it’s a decent color since I gotta draw the fucking line someplace if your crazy ass don’t. Just see to it nobody else finds out, because if they do they’re dead.”

A smirk threatened to escape out of the corner of Mickey’s mouth in spite of his best efforts, but Ian noticed he hadn’t quite gotten an answer.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Fuck, Ian, do I gotta draw you a fucking diagram? Yes. Yes, I’ll put on that fucking skirt and you can fuck me while I’m wearing it. Fucking Christ on a pogo stick,” Mickey conceded.

Ian jumped up and pumped the air in triumph, imitating a hockey player celebrating a goal. “He shoots! He scores!”

“The fuck is wrong with you?!” Mickey looked at Ian like he had three heads and rolled his eyes. “Just wash anything you take outta there before we use it for banging. Who the fuck knows where it’s been?”

 

* * *

 

Once Mickey and Ian had gone through the ill-gotten garments and decided what Mickey would be okay with wearing, Ian took the black skirt, a pair of leggings and a black tank top to the Gallagher house to wash. If anyone caught him, he’d say the clothes were Mandy’s. He could even say they were from one of his regulars, since enough of those old guys were into this kind of shit.

Ian surveyed the Milkovich residence and triple-checked with Mickey to make sure they’d have the house to themselves. Mandy was at work, Svetlana was with some of her girls above the Alibi with Yev, and Iggy, Colin and Joey were on a drug run with Mickey.

Ian laid out the clothing in his and Mickey’s room, waiting for his boyfriend to come home. It seemed like forever. He hoped everything was okay, and Mickey wasn’t too pissed about all the stuff in the living room.

Was it too much? Would he get caught if he tried to put it all back where he got it? Would Mickey’s brothers be able to help him put them back? He figured that after the Army, stealing suitcases out of the airport wasn’t bad. The Gallaghers had done worse. Mickey’s brothers had done way worse. Surely Mickey wouldn’t be too mad at him and it’d blow over, but maybe Mickey had different standards for his boyfriend than he had for his brothers. Mickey never cared before, but they weren’t dating dating then. Fuck. Mickey WAS pissed at him. He’d have to give him a nice -

Just then, the sound of the door opening interrupted Ian’s train of thoughts. The redhead looked up.

“Well, that was a hell of a mess,” Mickey said. “Run went good. Iggy’s got himself another good new gig filing off serial numbers, but Joey’s got a new warrant out for his arrest. And I give zero fucks because Joey’s shit ain’t my circus or my fucking monkeys, either. You are.”

Ian smiled, thinking that was probably one of the more romantic things Mickey had ever said to him.

“At least you cut to the chase,” Ian said. “So will I. I think it’d be hot if you took off your clothes and put these on right now, sexy.” He batted his eyelashes exaggeratedly at Mickey, holding out the newly-laundered items.

“You goofy ginger fuckhead,” Mickey said. “Fine, I’ll put on the clothes. Gimme a second.”

Watching his boyfriend put on the clothes was a hell of a treat, a sight for sore eyes, Ian thought. Ian figured that the strappy women’s tank top he was putting on at the moment wasn’t too far off from the sleeveless shirts he usually wore, but the fact that Mickey often wore baggy pants that hid everything underneath was just a terrible shame.

Mickey’s bare legs had just a dusting of hair, fine compared the dark tresses on his head, and his torso was smooth. He’d debating asking Mickey to shave his legs for this, but he scrapped it in favor of going one step at a time. Mickey didn’t really need to shave them, and his comfort with this was more important. Otherwise this would be a one and done experience.

Mickey pulled the leggings on and grimaced. “Fuck, these things are too tight, and they’re riding up my ass crack and squishing my balls. How the fuck are these even supposed to be comfortable?!”

“Take them off,” Ian said. “To be fair, you are trying to squeeze parts into them that they weren’t designed for. And you do have a really nice, full ass they probably weren’t designed for, either. Rather see your bare legs and your ass hanging out in that little skirt. It’s hotter.”

“Good. I’d rather have more room to allow my shit to breathe under this thing,” Mickey said with a sigh of relief. “Like it?”

In contrast to the tough exterior he usually showed, Mickey faced Ian and almost shyly lifted the hem, the very tip of his rosy cock head just peeking out. He turned around and showed Ian how the back of the skirt looked.

Ian felt himself, already at half-mast, growing fuller still. The skirt, as he’d expected, left very little to the imagination, Mickey’s pale, thick thighs fully exposed and edges of his ass cheeks poking out from under the hem.

Not able to stand this, Ian hastily pulled off his clothes and freed his almost painful erection from his boxers. He walked closer to where Mickey was standing, lifted the skirt and smacked one of his boyfriend’s ass cheeks.

Mickey hissed, “Fuck.” Ian growled and slapped the other one.

“Fuck, you look so damn good, Mickey,” Ian said. “I love how you usually dress because you are such a hot, take-no-shit dude and that gave me such a hard-on from the first time I saw you. But this...is something else. It’s a side of you I’ve never seen before. It’s so sexy. Your bubble butt hanging out. Your sexy, thick legs. It’s amazing.”

Mickey snorted. “If you say so. I’m just glad that it gives you a fucking boner because then I get to have my fun. I already prepped, too, so don’t you worry about that, either.”

“Damn straight,” Ian said, walking over to the couch. He sat with his legs spread, his huge, thick cock erect and dripping like a faucet. “Come here, baby. I want to fuck you until you can’t walk.”

Mickey gave Ian one of those sly smirks that still drove him crazy. The smaller man climbed onto Ian’s lap, facing him, and retrieved the lube from its usual spot. He slicked up Ian’s cock before lowering himself into Ian’s lap. Both men groaned from the intense feel as Mickey’s warm tunnel clamped around Ian’s dick as the brunet rode him.

Ian didn’t know what came over him, but seeing Mickey exposing himself and putting him in such a vulnerable position like this just empowered him.

“Mmm. Yeah, take that fucking cock,” Ian purred. “You love it. Such a fucking slut. Take it so good like a whore.”

Mickey’s blue eyes widened. Those would be fighting words in any other context, but he’d be lying like a rug if he said this side of Ian didn’t turn him on. He was far from a stereotypically submissive bottom, preferring to take as much charge in the sheets as he did in the streets. He’d punch out anyone who called him Ian’s bitch, but privately he’d do damn near anything to keep Ian happy. Like this.

“Fuck, Ian,” was all Mickey could say. “Fuck me. Hard.”

Ian grabbed Mickey’s hips, his fingernails digging into the soft flesh, and started pounding into him from below as hard as he could. Mickey moaned, then wailed loudly as Ian’s cock head rubbed, hard, against his prostate. “Holy fuck. That’s so good, right there.”

Even with the high bar he’d set by having sex with Mickey, this was amazing by Ian’s standards. He wanted this to last forever, but that wasn’t an option. He could feel his balls tightening. “Fuck, I’m getting close.”

“Fuck!” Mickey cried out again. The friction of his cock rubbing between their bodies and the merciless prostate stimulation Ian was giving him had Mickey ready to burst, too. He came all over both of them, panting hard and eyes rolling back.

The feeling of Mickey orgasming meant that Ian was done, too. He groaned loudly as he pushed balls deep and emptied himself inside Mickey, twitching, his fingernails digging hard into his boyfriend’s hips.

His legs giving out under him, Mickey slumped onto Ian, kissing him. The redhead reached under the skirt to knead at Mickey’s cheeks again, spanking one and then the other. “Love this ass. So fucking good.”

“Mmmmph,” Mickey groaned.

With Mickey still straddling Ian, they were too engrossed in what they were doing to notice the sound of keys jingling. Unfortunately, the sound was too much loud - and close by - to be coming from the neighbors’ houses on either side.

The door swung open. To his utter horror, Ian saw a brightly-colored diner hat walk into the Milkovich living room. The person under the hat was too shocked to speak, mouth open and gaping at the scene, probably since Mickey’s ass was hanging out in full view.

“What the FUCK?” Ian shouted.

Mickey’s face turned about six shades of red. He jumped off of Ian like his boyfriend’s lap was on fire and burning his ass. Seething, he bellowed one word at the intruder, like a moose that had just been shot with a deer slug.

“MANDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

**Author's Note:**

> The more astute among you will notice that the canon timeline doesn’t quite match up to allow for Mandy to still be living at the Milkovich house at the time this fic takes place.
> 
> In the canon, it’s mentioned in S5E3 that she left for Indiana with Kenyatta, while the episode referenced in this fic, with the suitcases, is S5E4.
> 
> Please note that I’ve intentionally played fast and loose with this aspect of the timeline for this fic, and that it’s not a continuity error. Plus, it’s way better than the ending Mandy got in S5.


End file.
